A lock, enthralled by a fist.
A mouth, enamoured by a neck.  
A picture, on this Friday wall.

The Why's:
"Why does it hurt so much?"
"Why do I feel like I'm losing you?"
"Why am I never good enough?"
"Why am I doing this?"
"Why can't you let her go?"
"Why do we keep going in circles?"
"Why do I never follow my gut?"

The What's:
"What do they have that I don't?"
"What's wrong with me?"
"What's wrong with you?"
"What do you want from me?"
"What is the right thing to do?"

The Who's:
"Who is she?"
"Who am I?"
"Who are you?"
"Who do I turn to?"
"Who can I talk to?"
"Who wouldn't hurt me?"
"Who wouldn't judge me?"

The Am I's:
"Am I better off alone?"
"Am I a good person?"
"Am I doing what is right?"
"Am I living the life I should?"
"Am I better not living life at all?"
"Am I kind enough?"
"Am I popular enough?"
"Am I pretty enough?"
"Am I smart enough?"
"Am I funny enough?"
"Am I enough?"

if you’re going to try, go all the
way.
otherwise, don’t even start.

if you’re going to try, go all the
way. this could mean losing girlfriends,
wives, relatives, jobs and
maybe your mind.

go all the way.
it could mean not eating for 3 or
4 days.
it could mean freezing on a
park bench.
it could mean jail,
it could mean derision,
mockery,
isolation.
isolation is the gift,
all the others are a test of your
endurance, of
how much you really want to
do it.
and you’ll do it
despite rejection and the
worst odds
and it will be better than
anything else
you can imagine.

if you’re going to try,
go all the way.
there is no other feeling like
that.
you will be alone with the
gods
and the nights will flame with
fire.

do it, do it, do it.
do it.

all the way
all the way.
you will ride life straight to
perfect laughter,
it’s the only good fight
there is.

little dark girl with
kind eyes
when it comes time to
use the knife
I won't flinch and
i won't blame
you,
as I drive along the shore alone
as the palms wave,
the ugly heavy palms,
as the living does not arrive
as the dead do not leave,
i won't blame you,
instead
i will remember the kisses
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me
everything you had
and how I
offered you what was left of
me,
and I will remember your small room
the feel of you
the light in the window
your records
your books
our morning coffee
our noons our nights
our bodies spilled together
sleeping
the tiny flowing currents
immediate and forever
your leg my leg
your arm my arm
your smile and the warmth
of you
who made me laugh
again.
little dark girl with kind eyes
you have no
knife. the knife is
mine and i won't use it
yet.

Hope
Rises
Like
A
Phoenix
From
  The
Ashes
Of
Shattered
Dreams

Life is such a parodox
Its an oxymoron
Those who talk the least
Have the most to say
Those who feel the most
Cant even show it
Those who have the most to live
Want to die the most
Why is this so?
Why is it when i think
Often so deeply
That i cant explain
No matter how much
I want to do so
Its just all stuck
I think through things so much
But i can't explain my thoughts
They just stay stuck
Or come out stupid
Why cant i just talk?
Some people talk so much
And yet say so little
I have so much to say
Yet i talk so little
Life my dear friends
Is such a parodox

The eclipse of two hearts
With lips and souls meeting
Life will flash
With purpose and meaning
This is what we believe
That true love is not destructive
And that most of us deserve it
We trust it's all we need
We so eagerly believe
Because how else will you paint your life
When the only perfect tint
Is born in the lips
Of a lover's Red lie